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#love confessions
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Hi! You guys are great at finding fics so I thought I'd an before giving up; do you know of one where Crowley keeps telling Aziraphale that he loves him and Aziraphale keeps making him forget? Thanks!
There are a few fics like this. Is it one of these?...
If You Touch Me You'll Understand What Happiness Is by locketofyourhair (E)
Crawly’s eyes go blank, and Aziraphale cannot help but pluck the memory away from him, because they cannot meet as enemies if Crawly truly thinks he can love. That cannot be borne. “You didn’t say that. You cannot love. That was taken from you, when you Fell,” he says softly. “You merely wish you could, dear boy.” “No,” Crawly murmurs. “I do. She didn’t take that. Wish She did, less scary if She did.” Or: Crowley won't stop confessing his love to Aziraphale, and it's simply too dangerous for them both to remember.
Forgotten Moments by Bookwormgal (T)
Every time that Crowley confessed how much he loved his angel, Aziraphale made him forget. At first, out of denial of what Crowley was telling him. Later, out of fear of what would happen if Crowley's feelings were discovered. But no matter how many times the demon forgot about his previous confessions, he never stopped. And it broke Aziraphale's heart every time that he took those memories away.
everything i've had but couldn't keep by eggysoupy (T)
“Aziraphale,” Crowley said to wide blue eyes, “I’m in love with you.” If he had any expectation of Aziraphale’s next words — and he did not, could not possibly conceive of any reaction, had never allowed himself to even imagine — it was certainly nothing close to this. “Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a rush of breath. “Again?” ---------- Crowley confesses often. Each time is his first, and each time the last. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say someone was messing with his memories.
- Mod D
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Prompt 14
Jaskier is sure Geralt ignores most of what he says. That is, until Geralt leaves his journal behind when he goes to hunt one day. Jaskier trips on it and goes to put it in his pack, light-heartedly muttering to Roach about how much of a slob that man is, before seeing his name plastered all over the page. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself to read a page filled with nothing but insults and a rant of how annoying Jaskier must be, only to find out the journal is filled with paragraph after paragraph of loving descriptions and insights into everything Jaskier speaks or sings about, including the occasional highly-detailed sketch of him, made with love. Jaskier reads page after page after page after page after page, and only stops when interrupted by Geralt's shocked intake of breath as he comes back to camp.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Pre-Prompt fic that ticks some of the boxes was found by @merthurmagic! It focuses on the drawing part, but it's very sweet! It involves getting together, and the kaer morhen boys! I'm not a personal fan of the way dialogue is written, with angle brackets instead of quotation marks, but it's still a good read!
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hitlikehammers · 2 days
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time for that age old question: is love enough to beat back the apocalypse?
Because Steve's right there to protect everybody like the self-sacrificing asshole he is help Eddie make the music he's not strong enough for yet help them all put Vecna in the ground for good this time, right?(!??!)
or: what's the song for your walkman, baby? does it even matter?
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I Could Be Your Nurse (or something)
Or: Five Times Eddie Has To Ask For Help, Plus One Time He Doesn’t Need It Anymore (but asks anyway) ✨ for @penny00dreadful 💜
<<< three: sleep 🌗
🎧 🎹 four: play 🎶 🛡️
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To tell the whole truth of it: it comes too quickly—Vecna’s last stand. Of course it does.
But probably, if he’s being fair: they’d never have been really ready. Not for this, and so maybe it’s best that they’re not fully healed, not at full strength when it all comes to a head, not least because that means Vecna and his petal-toothed brigade aren’t at full strength either. And that choice, for their side, is sloppy; the Party stands on the right-side-up against the attack because they have to. Vecna makes his move because—or else, Eddie’s fairly sure—because the sadistic ballsac is losing his fucking mind.
Which is terrifying, sure, but fuck if it doesn’t help their cause.
It’s actually over pretty quick, even compared to Spring Break which, while it felt like a lifetime for how much it changed Eddie’s own, it’s only been those handful of days—but it’s kinda like the grand finale at a fireworks show: everything all at once then, done. In the everything’s though: he might not like it, but Eddie’s not so foolish as to believe he’s not still too tender, still too deep in healing the finer points of being gnawed alive to be anything but a burden in the thick of it. He refuses to be sidelined, though, and he thinks it says a lot for the long-term health of this glorious impossible thing he’s…building? Yeah, he, umm, he, Eddie Munson, is building a real goddamn thing where he doesn’t even just let someone into his heart and treasures them there, no, he’s building a thing where he gives his heart and gets on new and soft and trembling in kind and they both get to work at the treasuring of something more precious than just their own vulnerable insides, but yeah, yeah:
Eddie thinks it bodes really fucking well for the hopes he has that lean hard toward forever, already, in Eddie’s chest at least when Steve looks his way as they’re planning the teams and he locks eyes with Eddie and Eddie doesn’t even get his mouth open to breathe, to plead don’t cut me out, don’t send me to Wayne to be ‘safe’ or ‘out of harm’s way’ or whatever, don’t leave me so fucking far from you my heart hurts just because it’s beating in the middle space unmoored and shaking around all bruised up with it for not knowing and I know I can’t do what everyone else can but it’ll be bad enough not being next to you please don’t push me far enough that I won’t know the moment you’re safe, just—
Steve meets his eyes, and Eddie’s breath catches before his heart trips, and then Steve speaks up—and he doesn’t, not all that often when the nerdiest among them are shoring up the battle plans—but he watches Eddie without blinking when he pipes up:
“Eddie’s on medical and audio, with Erica and Jon.”
And maybe it’s his tone—this almost wholly novel thing in Steve that’s steely and unquestionable but no one pushes, they nod and get back to work, totally seamless and, and…yeah. That’s all Eddie wanted. Best he could hope for. Just outside the gate they go through. Close enough to hold a hand on the way down, and reach for purchase on the journey back.
Steve swallows hard, and nods at Eddie before he looks away and starts gearing up, twirls his fucking nailbat so it catches the sunlight even thought the metal’s mostly rusted, now and just…Eddie hadn’t needed to say a word. And Steve wanted to send him to safety, the way his throat had bobbed made it real clear there was something heavy he’s held back but: he’d said what he said. He’d laid the line in Eddie’s favor. Eddie wants to hold him, wants to pull him close and feel him breathe, and—
Yeah. Eddie kinda feels like the way it goes is a really good sign for their future as a couple. A couple. Them. Together.
With an always on the other side of all of this that could be kinda fucking magnificent, maybe. Given the chance.
Point being: Eddie gets himself set up with at least a full ambulance’s supplies for first aid, definitely not acquired legally, and a stereo set up he really wishes someone had been kind enough to outfit him with in not-the-apocalypse, holy shit is it gorgeous, but since the strength in his hands is still a work-in-progress, he’s gotta be ready to crank up the noise as a distraction from arm’s-length. It’s actually driving him fucking crazy—or, was; it was, pre-active return to the regularly scheduled world ending—the whole not being able to make music, to translate the noise in his head into sounds on the strings but even that, even that’s been tolerable, survivable because of Steve—who he loves, he gets to love Steve Harrington holy fuck—but Steve’s not just there to be everything and more than the air Eddie goddamn breathes, to become the music just by existing, nope, he one ups that shit: he asked Eddie if it’d be enough to learn the chords he needs. So Eddie could match the words with the notes right, so Steve could be a—
“—kinda piss-poor substitute but,” Steve had shrugged for it with a crooked grin; “but even a bad translator gets a message across, and you’d know when it’s wrong so we can figure out how to fix it and—“
And Eddie’d grabbed Steve’s chin and yanked his mouth close to fucking consume that man like a soul goddamn starved.
“I’d be a shit teacher,” Eddie had mouthed against Steve’s lips after they were sucked well-swollen; “if I still can’t lift the fucking neck for more than a minute,” but Steve had heard none of it, just shot right back:
“You don’t think we’ve beat steeper odds than that?”
And in the face of that raised brow, those red lips parted, that pulse in that neck still a little bit visible like a tease: the fuck was Eddie supposed to do but dive back in and love on the man who’d somehow agreed to be his, and to claim Eddie of all people in turn?
Which is a whole other reason why everything’s gonna be fine: Steve’s gonna make music with him. Steve’s gonna be Eddie’s muse and the vessel for what he inspires. It’s gonna be like Greek fucking poetry, except it’s gonna be them.
So Eddie’s all stocked up, s’got everyone’s floaty-bone-breaky songs queued up on blast for immediate deployment as necessary, and Steve’s the last to go through—he always is, in Eddie’s experience, waits for everyone to be safely accounted for before he spares a thought for himself and it might kill Eddie one day but not fucking today, because it’s gonna be fine—
“Eddie.”
It feels a little like history repeating itself, the way Steve huddles him in a little. Henderson’s through, with Lucas and Hopper and the weird stray Russian, but it’s not like history repeating, because Eddie’s got different words to see him off with; so fucking different.
“Last time I didn’t have,” and Steve reaches, cups Eddie’s cheek, drags down to press on his chest as his voice strains hard: “and it almost killed me,” and Steve usually pinches between his eyes to keep his feelings in check but instead of using his free hand to hold back the tears he reaches for Eddie’s and laces their fingers as his voice cracks and he chokes out:
“Please,” and it’s for everything. For all the almosts from last time; for all the possibilities rife this time. For all the hopes Eddie thinks they share beyond how this shakes out.
“Exceptionally underqualified field med,” Eddie breathes, and squeezes Steve’s hand so, so hard like a promise, because it is; “exceptionally overqualified DJ,” and Steve chuckles, wet but real and it’s enough, because:
“I got it, Stevie,” Eddie bends his forehead to Steve’s to say better than with words that he’s not in this to be a hero, he’ll be right here the whole time, but that doesn’t mean he…that doesn’t mean he can help but to ask this time:
“Just,” and the breath in him punches out unexpectedly as he damn-near begs:
“Only bring me back the little things, yeah? That I know how to fix?”
And they both hear what’s said underneath it:
Don’t turn around and die down there, and kill me in kind..
And—if anyone’s keeping track—they turn out not to need it but: the way the kiss is a wholeass wartime farewell, man.
And then: Eddie waits, and fucks with the speakers for less than an hour before the earth shakes, and his heart drops, but then he hears it.
The fucking whooping of those shitheads echoing through the cracks.
And then he sees it, runs, grabs the first hand that’s clinging to the rope this time and pulls with strength he doesn’t have, is probably more a hindrance than a help but he steadies them each back on the ground and hugs them so tight, kisses more than one of them on the head or the cheek as he doesn’t pretend not to be sobbing through the laughter because they did it, they fucking did it, somehow it’s over and he loves these people and he’s so fucking happy they’re alive and safe and here and—
And the person he loves more, loves most, brings up the rear, a little bloodied, a little scratched up, dingy with the fucking air down there but smiling and Eddie…
Eddie falls into him so fucking hard they both hit the ground and just, just grab onto one another. Just hold and breathe and catch lips every few seconds like an afterthought because they feel each other’s heartbeat where their chests are pressed tight and it’s, they’re…
Steve’s got four broken fingers across both hands. None in a row. He’s basically giving a Vulcan salute by default for how they’re taped.
Eddie loves him so goddamn much it hurts.
And Eddie’d obviously known—once things start to settle in the days that’ve followed—that teaching Steve guitar with those Spock-y hands was on the back burner, but he does ask Steve to sit, and to rest, and to help hum back the tunes in Eddie’s head while Eddie jots lyrics with a hand that’s still shaky but steadying out more every day, and it’s kind of perfect, and Steve adds some things into the melodies either on purpose or by accident but they’re better for it every time and—
Muse and vessel, man. The light of Eddie’s whole goddamn life.
With fucking Vulcan hands still, though, so: excuse Eddie for being…bewildered when his boyfriend—boyfriend, that’s his boyfriend—but his taped-up-healing-Vulcan-handed boyfriend is propping the front door open and lugging in a long, not-recovery-friendly thing that looks close to dropping on his toes and—
“The fuck are you doing?” Eddie asks with a little more panic in his voice than he’d hoped for as he rushes as best he can to where Steve’s kicking the door shut behind him, fluttering his hands around uselessly as Steve maneuvers past him, leans across for a peck at the corner of Eddie’s mouth and calls—“It’s fine, it weighs, like, nothing”—over his shoulder as he settles the, the thing down on the coffee table in the living room they’ve started actually using for, y’know.
Living.
Eddie follows him in, though, because of course, he’s half-a-dog on that man’s heels, whole-caught-in-the-gravity-of-his-everything: but Eddie follows as Steve tosses himself backward with something in his hand, rolls and rucks up his fucking absurd Hawking Middle tee across the sweet curve of his hips, the way the soft give of skin tempts Eddie to run his tongue over the trail of almost-curls, like baby-curls where they lead under the waist of his jeans: Eddie would happily volunteer to survive on the taste of that musky-delicate space until the end of goddamn time—
But then Steve’s huffing a breathless ha from behind a chair where he’d been stretched to reach and a light catches Eddie’s eye from his periphery where he’d been staring unblinking just at Steve: the big long black thing on the coffee table. It takes a genuine concerted effort not to keep at the Steve-staring—not an uncommon state of Eddie’s existence, in all fairness—and check what’s glowing on the table: something turned on. Was plugged in, right, that’s what had Steve rolling on the floor without Eddie on top of or being deliciously pinned down by him.
The something being the big long black thing that Eddie takes in for the whole of it, now: a keyboard.
“Jon picked it up for me second-hand from the place next to Fox Photo when he drove down for his camera, and Rob vouched that it’s a good brand and like, really good condition,” Steve’s raised up on his knees, now with his hands braces on his thighs as Eddie studies the keys, fingers the ends of a every few of the naturals.
“Rob helped with those, too, so I’d know the right, like, chords,” and yeah: they’re stupa of masking tape stuck to the keys with letters in blue, black, and red pen, alternating so they don’t get mixed up, some with and arrow, Eddie assumes, to indicate a sharp.
“I only remember like half of one song from when my parents thought it would look good to have me take piano lessons,” Steve huffs in whole-ass judgment; “my mom wanted the endorsement of the guy who was stepping down from city council, and his wife taught private lessons, so, y’know,” Steve rolls his eyes; “super convenient leading up to the election.”
“What song?”
Steve blinks, tips his head in askance for what Eddie recognizes very clearly as something closer to a croak than a question, his throat all tight. He tries to cough, to clear it.
“What song do you remember?”
Steve snorts at that, leans back on his palms, and fuck is he beautiful.
“Clair de Lune,” Steve grins crooked; “the one song I was allowed to pick, instead of just being assigned.”
“Why’d you pick it?” Not that Eddie doesn’t like it or anything. It’s more that…he knew Steve could more than just drum fingers on keys, if only just, and that a baby grand used to sit in the corner where there’s a stereo cabinet now, but.
But: see, there’s like a whole half of his heart that’s dedicated to collecting new knowledge about everything Steve: his favorite food when he was 12 versus the now. How his favorite color became his favorite color. The story behind all the polos. The nitty-gritties about why he’s in a big-ass house alone for approximately 360 days a year, and how long it’s been that way. Eddie’s whole heart is basically Steve’s but every day that half overflows a little, and Eddie’s only keeping it relegated to parts filled with Steve-lore so he can feel the collection break containment every other day, this grand and joyous bursting under his ribs as everything spills over again, and again, and again until it’s all just Steve, and his heart has to burst or stretch, or both.
Eddie thinks both will be amazing.
And right now, in the interest of building toward that amazing-both: he wants to know why Debussy.
Steve chuckles to himself—better music than any dead French guy by a country mile—and eyes Eddie almost slyly.
“Do you remember Claire Reynolds?”
Vaguely. Like, very vaguely. He remembers…uneven pigtails. Very actual-cult-like vibes about her family as a vague impression and now that he’s bringing it to mind he feels a new wave of indignation: those Children-of-the-Corn motherfuckers were just fine but Eddie liked a board game and he was probably a murderer.
“When we were in like, first grade,” Steve’s continuing on; “she asked me every, single, day, to come over and see her sheep.” Steve looks up at Eddie and bites his lower lip, lets his gaze dance and lets Eddie fall into it for a few dazed seconds before he spells it out.
“She had these crazy eyes about it, it was kinda unsettling,” Steve nudges, but Eddie’s doesn’t get it until:
“And it’s not like I do now, because obviously I don’t, but I definitely didn’t speak a lick of French when I was eight.”
It takes Eddie a hot second before he snorts hard enough to hurt:
Claire, da Loon.
“I was eight,” Steve protests Eddie’s laughter halfheartedly even as he joins in, reaches to slap at Eddie’s upper arm which honestly: just makes him laugh harder.
“Anyway,” Steve fights through the last of the chuckling as it peters out between them, drags himself to sitting next to the coffee table and taps his hand to the top of the keyboard.
“I know it’s not the same as learning guitar to help, and I can probably only get the top and bottom notes with these,” he lifts his Vulcan-fingers his a shrug; “but I was hoping that’d be better than nothing?”
And, like, how Eddie was talking about his heart having to swell, for all the things he gets to tuck inside of it that come with loving Steve Harrington?
He might crack a rib, just now, because—
“This is for me?”
Steve purses his lips, lifts a brow:
“Well, technically it’s for me,” steve singles his fingers, which looks absurd with the splints; “but yeah. To help you get the songs out. I mean, once these are free again, you can help me with the guitar like we talked about, until you’re—“
And Eddie cannot be blamed, see: he cannot be fucking blamed for tackling Steve to the floor and kissing him hard enough to bruise because…
“You got hurt,” Eddie half-breathes between kisses; “you got hurt and I was so afraid I was gonna lose you,” and Eddie reaches for those taped fingers and kisses them, too: so gentle and Steve’s expression softens so quick:
“I was scared, too,” he whispers between them, cups Eddie’s face with his unloaded hand; “you were as safe as I could make you within the fucking city limits but I was still so goddamn scared.”
Cue more rib-cracking for the heart-swelling, because Jesus fucking Christ.
“And you,” Eddie exhales, slow and shaky; “you’re hurt, but you went and got,” he nods to the keyboard;
“I know it’s not ideal,” Steve’s quick to, to what, apologize? For being insane and perfect and—
“Shut up,” Eddie says, voice low and watery and he’s still kissing at Steve’s fingers, holding his wrist delicate but also like a lifeline.
“You’re hurt,” Eddie maybe kinda moans it because he hates it, as much as he’s so fucking grateful that’s it’s just this, no worse than this; “and you still—”
“I promised, didn’t I?”
And that…that’s one thing Eddie’s learned beyond reproach; that even to his detriment, Steve keeps his goddamn promises.
And he’d promised to help Eddie get his words out, to place the lyrics to the notes and help unclutter his brain so he didn’t lose his mind.
Holy fucking hell.
“Steve,” Eddie starts, shakes his head, needs to find the right words. “You’re alive,” the most important thing. “You are healing,” another most important thing, for Eddie to oversee and make sure of, even as Steve keeps an eye on the last lingering threads of the long haul on Eddie’s road to recovery in kind, his beloved mother hen.
“This is,” and he runs his fingers too light to draw sounds across the keys, hopes he sounds as awed and grateful as he feels; “but you, you’ve gotta test, you have to,” and Eddie shakes his head and lifts his eyes to just fucking ask it:
“Why?”
And Steve: Steve just studies his face for a few seconds, reads what he needs before he smiles kinda exasperated, mostly fond and answers so simply, while also breaking a few more of Eddie’s ribs when he just says:
“Because I love you.”
And Eddie’s heart’s not so overfull yet of all of Steve, it’s not fair that it just bursts right then and there, Eddie propelled into Steve’s arms to kiss him deep this time, like he’s searching out Steve’s soul to taste and maybe he is, save that he needs his heart to not have exploded for feeling if he’s going to keep the memory of it safe in his chest for always, he needs to patch his heart back up first but he’s too distracted, too drowned in the way love actually fucking feels, fucking shifts his cells around and makes a new version of him, lets his heart grow bigger except it went and blasted apart with the unprecedented immensity of loving and—
And then Eddie’s got Steve’s taped up hands on both his cheeks, and he remembers that night, in the shower, where Steve ripped the seams from his shirt so taking it off wouldn’t hurt him; notices how Steve is wearing that same fucking shirt in this very moment, all in one piece, like it never split apart in the first place.
Master seamstress, tried and tested and true; truer than anything.
So Eddie just dives back in and kisses with everything in him, thinks maybe when Steve tastes the pieces of Eddie’s blowout heart under his tongue while Eddie goes diving for the sweet lick of Steve’s soul:
Eddie thinks Steve’s mouth might know how to stitch up torn things, too. Especially the kinds that are ripped at their seams wholly for the sake of loving that fucking hard.
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✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson
divider credits here & here
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wangxianficrecs · 16 hours
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loveliness by carmiemaybe (glazedlilies)
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loveliness
by carmiemaybe (glazedlilies)
T, 1k, Wangxian
Summary: “Lan Zhan, you’re okay?” No, I am about to die, “Mn. I am… alright.” “You came here to punish me?” Wei Ying asks with an amused glint in his grey eyes. Lan Wangji pushes away every improper thought those words form in his, apparently, dirty mind. Ever since Wei Wuxian showed him that book, things have become… pretty distressing. Kay's comments: So cute!!! Just Wangxian being allowed to be awkward and soft teenagers, who are in love!! In this story, teen Lan Wangji gathers his courage and confesses to Wei Wuxian and he's very successful! No angst, only fluff! Excerpt: “Wait, wait! Lan Zhan, where are you going? You can’t just—“ he breaks off, evidently nervous. There’s a bright red blush spreading on his lovely cheeks. Lan Wangji does not know what to make of it. “You can’t just leave like that, Lan Zhan. Not when… Aagh, fuck, my heart. Hold on, I need a minute.” Lan Wangji panics, “Wei Ying, are you feeling well?” Wei Wuxian shakes his hand in the air, dismissing Lan Wangji’s worries, “Y-yeah, well,” he swallows. “I’m just pretty overwhelmed that’s all and like, my heart is about to beat out of my chest, and you know, I’m flustered down to my toes. Lan Zhan, you should warn me before you say things like that my poor heart, oh my God.”
pov lan wangji, canon divergence, cloud recesses study arc, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, no angst, love confessions, first kiss, getting together, teen romance, pining, happy ending
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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novelbear · 3 months
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a dialogue list for angry love confessions
prompt list by @novelbear | very slight cw for cursing!
"if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you."
"i thought that if i did all of this and came all this way, it would finally click for you."
"come back to me when you figure it out."
"i am done. i'm done waiting for you."
"i'm in love with you, you dumbass."
"what the hell did you think i meant by that?"
"i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you."
"you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you. and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
"i've been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn't see?"
"i dropped everything to be with you! everything!"
"why do i keep doing this to myself..."
"i'm not losing the one person i love because of some stupid shit."
"is that what you wanted to hear? are you happy?"
"what do you think i've been doing this for?"
"i had thought all of this would be so different for us."
"don't you want the same?"
"god, how blind can you be?"
"open your eyes!"
"i've wasted years of my life chasing after someone who couldn't give a fuck about me..."
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urfriendlywriter · 1 year
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love prompts that melted my soul:
(listen to "People" by Libianca from 00:16! while reading these pls! AND TAG ME WHEN YALL WRITE)
silent hugs.
forehead kisses. or kisses on the crown of your head esp when you're not expecting it
the kiss after being pulled onto their lap ✧♡ω>\\<
kissing your palm before they wrap that arm around their neck for a hug !!!!
hugs turning to into small dances in an empty living room with slow music
"don't do that to me, love" with a gentle, hardly containable smile [im a goner atp]
smiling whenever you act adorable.
noticing their little actions
feeling feverish whenever they're so close :')
resting your head on their shoulder
when they love cuddling >>>>
when they're always touching, subtly, gently, boldly.
looking at you whenever you enter into the room
"I'll love you until my last breath and in the heavens too."
being thankful for their presence
that breathtaking moment when they realise that they're urs forever
"write my name next to yours, i want that spot forever." as a whisper. in a very intimate moment too pls. oh fuck
laughing our loud whenever you do dumb shit together
she fell first but he didn't realise he was loving her all along so when she decided to not love him anymore, he got thrown into his love for her that he nearly suffocated
^ she fell first, but actually he did because falling felt like sleeping, that he never realised how easy it was to love her (CHANGE PRONOUNS AS U LIKE) (inspired by @diaryofaromantica in Instagram!!)
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pedroshotwifey · 4 days
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?” 
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 
“Joel?” 
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 
“You feel so good,” you whine. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 
You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 
*****
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment
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Chapter 28: How in the-
The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…
Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.
You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.
The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.
Today was a first. In a lot of ways.
The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.
You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.
Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.
Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.
John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.
And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.
“Jesus, what happened?”
“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.
“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.
“Have you been checked?”
“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.
“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.
“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.
“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.
“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.
They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.
So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.
“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.
Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.
“Fine, sweetheart.”
“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.
He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”
“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”
“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.
“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.
“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”
“And a bath?” You added.
“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.
After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.
Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…
Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”
“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.
“Stay. Please.” He requested.
“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.
“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.
“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.
You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.
Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.
“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.
Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water. 
The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it. 
Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.
The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.
“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.
“For bathing you?”
“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.
“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.
“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.
“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”
“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”
“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.
“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.
“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”
“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”
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themorningsunshine · 1 year
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I like me better when I am with you
Masterlist
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.
Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy
Word count - 2.8k
a/n - I had so much fun writing this.
Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.
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Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.
But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.
"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"
His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.
Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.
Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."
"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.
Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."
Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.
No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.
Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.
And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.
That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.
He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.
You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.
Maybe that's why she is friends with you.
That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.
Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?
Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.
The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.
You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.
Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.
This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.
You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.
"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?
Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her
Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.
"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.
Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.
Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.
"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done
"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...
"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."
Before it's too late
That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.
How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.
Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.
You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.
"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.
: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.
Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.
A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.
"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"
Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.
"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.
"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.
"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.
Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.
"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."
You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.
"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.
"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.
"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"
Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.
"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."
You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.
What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.
He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."
Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."
"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.
"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"
You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.
Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."
You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.
You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"
"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.
"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"
"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.
"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"
"That's literally his name."
"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.
"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."
"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"
"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.
You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "
"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.
"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.
"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"
Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.
Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.
Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -
All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.
He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.
When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.
"I want to be yours, Buck."
If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.
"You don't mean that, doll. You - "
"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”
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natalievoncatte · 3 months
Text
“We should play truth or dare.”
Kara nearly choked on her wine when she realized what Lena had said. That sounded like an amazingly terrible and yet incredibly intriguing idea. She turned to say something when she caught Alex giving her a look that could shatter diamonds. Kara downed the last of her wine and said,
“It’s getting pretty late, Lena.”
“You’re no fun,” Lena said, poking Kara in the center of her chest for emphasis.
Kara was glad she was sober. It wasn’t entirely true that she was immune to alcohol- it just took about a gallon of grain alcohol for her to feel a mild buzz for a few minutes, then have to run to the bathroom as her superhuman metabolism almost instantly forced it out of her system. Alex had “helped” her discover that once back in high school, and they both ended up grounded for a month.
“Come on, Kara. This way I can find out where you’re always running off to. In vino, veritas.”
Kara looked around and saw her own mirrored panic rising in the others. Kelly looked on from the kitchen, the only other member of their little group who was oblivious to the sheer weight of what Lena just said. Nia looked even more green than she had a moment earlier, and Alex was giving Kara a warning look, shaking her head behind Lena.
Brainy, for his part, remained mellow, sipping his grape soda. He was the designated driver for the night.
“Yeah, we need to go,” Nia threw in. “It’s been fun but I have an early day tomorrow.”
“It’s Saturday,” Lena protested, but it came out shaturday.
“I have to get up for yoga,” said Nia.
“We’re all in the same class on Thursday,” said Lena.
“Um, I’m getting ready for the yoga championships. Extra classes.”
Lena raised an arched brow.
Alex cut in, suddenly. “Kelly babe, you ready?”
“If you are. I was going to see if Kara needs help with the dishes.”
“I’m fine,” Kara called out, hearing the alarm in her own voice.
“Lena, are you riding with us?”
“Nah,” said Lena. “I’ll stay.”
Alex cleared her throat.
“How will you get home? You’re sauced, Miss Luthor.”
Lena grinned and looked over at Kara. “I’ll just stay over. I do it all the time.”
Alex’s brows climbed up and she turned to Kara with an incredulous expression.
“When did that start?”
“It’s no big deal. I live on the other side of town and Kara has a nice couch.”
Alex seemed to relax a little. Kara’s heart was trying to slam through her ribs.
“Okay.”
They all bundled out of the apartment, with Alex promising to text and Brainy swearing to let Kara know they were all home safe.
Kara closed the door behind them and turned around. Lena was still curled up on the couch, swirling the last of her wine in the bottom of the glass. She was in leggings and a big, baggy sweater that had been pulled to one side so hard that it almost bared her shoulder. Her hair was down and had gone wavy, falling over one half of her face, making her mysterious and distant. She downed the last swig of wine and put the glass down.
“We could still play truth or dare.”
“Lena,” said Kara. “You’re really drunk.”
“So are you.”
Kara swallowed, hard, feeling the bitter bile of her lies at the back of her throat. She wasn’t drunk at all. She was barely even tired; the city had been miraculously calm all summer.
“Which is it, Kara? Truth or dare.”
“Neither,” said Kara. “I think what you need is some sleep.”
Lena rested her glass on the coffee table, in the middle of a game of Monopoly that they’d all been too drunk to finish.
(Except Kara. Lena would have won, because Kara always agreed to whatever trade Lena offered, because saying no to Lena was harder than lifting a submarine over her head)
Kara leaned back against the kitchen counter coolly, trying not to betray her emotions. That turned into a job for Supergirl as Lena rose from the sofa with seductive grace, stalking across the loft with feline intensity. She was at once cuddly and soft in her sweater and a seductive vamp with her long inky locks pulled over one shoulder and the other bare.
Kara’s eyes locked on the bared skin, soft and creamy and crying out for a warm touch, then pulled away sharply as she willed herself not to ogle her best friend. It was a losing battle. Every step brought Kara back to the sway of her hips or the way her leggings gripped her thighs or the soft promise of her curves beneath that sweater.
Kara was starting to think she might be gay.
Lena stepped into her space. With both of them barefoot, Kara had a notable height advantage. Lena reduced it by rising on her tiptoes and threw her arms around Kara’s neck.
Kara had few weaknesses. Kryptonite. Magic. If kept up long enough, oxygen deprivation.
Lena Luthor.
She was so close that Kara could taste her breath, the fruity tang of the wine and the soft, inviting scent of Lena beneath her perfume. She was wearing a soft pink lip gloss that drew Kara to stare at her lips. She could almost feel them without touching. Her blue-green eyes were dark and sultry, and she leaned in on Kara, pressing the soft weight of her breasts against her chest.
Kara’s pulse went like a hummingbird and her knees went wobbly, but she simply ignored gravity.
Kara had other advantages. She could see the heat bloom on her skin and feel the change in he skin conductivity, and hear her heart racing. Lena’s pulse nearly matched her own.
Before she knew what she was doing, Kara had her hands resting on Lena’s sides just above her hips, moving on pure instinct. All she’d have to do was dip her head a fraction and she’d be kissing her. She was so close.
“Please pick dare,” Lena whispered.
It too every fiber of her being not to say “dare,” but she held her tongue. She also held Lena.
“I can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not.”
“Hi drunk, I’m dad.”
“Lena! This is serious!”
“Oh, you’re serious. I thought you were daddy.”
“Lena!”
“I dare you to…”
Kara pressed her finger to Lena’s lips.
“Lena, please listen. You’re drunk. I’m not. If you still want to do… whatever this is… in the morning, I… I want that. But not like this.”
Lena frowned and Kara thought she might die of sheer sorrow right there.
“Okay. Should I go home?”
“No, absolutely not. Just… do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll explain in the morning. I promise I’ll,” she swallowed hard, choking down the fear. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“Okay.”
Kara sighed and scooped Lena up, easily taking her weight in her arms. Lena yelped and hugged tight around her, clinging close and pressing cheek to cheek. Kara wanted to kiss her so bad that it ached in her chest, throbbed in her veins, but she didn’t. She carried her to the couch.
“Wait,” Lena said. “Can’t I sleep in the bed with you? I promise I won’t try anything.”
Kara nodded, mentally wincing. She carried Lena around to the bed and laid her down, drawing the blankets over her and settling her head on the pillow.
She had a choice to make her. The right thing to do, the honorable and chivalrous thing, would be to go sleep on the couch. She knew that, but the very idea of it was anathema to her.
To her credit, she stepped out of the bedroom to change and she put on pajama bottoms.
Kara took the far side of the bed, staring straight up. She didn’t expect to sleep a wink, but somehow she drifted off.
When she woke up, there was a weight on her. She looked down and found Lena pillowed on her chest. With a sigh, Kara rolled onto her side and drew Lena close, sheltering the other woman in her arms. In sleep she looked peaceful, so free of the worries and fears and anxieties that dogged her when she was awake.
Kara knew she should stop stroking Lena’s hair, knew she should let go of her, but the soft, hypnotic beat of Lena’s heart was nothing she could escape. She held Lena a little tighter, her own heart fluttering when Lena murmured her name on her sleep and hugged her back.
They woke up like that, Lena tucked in close under Kara’s chin. Lena was already awake when Kara woke up.
“Hi,” said Lena.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“Head hurts.”
“I’ll get you something,” Kara said, starting to rise.
“Oh no you don’t,” said Lena, tugging her back down. “You said you were going to tell me everything.”
Kara froze.
“How much of last night do you remember?”
“I remember the part where I tried to climb you like a tree and you bridal-carried me to bed and tucked me in,” said Lena. “And the part where you started hugging me like a teddy bear.”
“You started that.”
Lena snorted. “Why didn’t you kiss me?”
“Like I said, you were drunk, and I can’t… not until I… you don’t know everything.”
Lena sighed, looking away, and then looked up.
“So, truth then. Are you Supergirl?”
Kara flinched back, momentarily struck numb. If she was asking that, it meant she knew the answer.
Lena stared at her hopefully, almost pleadingly, her big pretty eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She bit her lip and Kara melted, feeling herself turn to goo.
“Yes.”
Lena let out a long sigh of blessed relief, closing her eyes.
“Lena?”
“It’s my turn. I pick truth.”
“Okay, um,” said Kara, “why did you ask me why I didn’t kiss you?”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Because you’ve been staring at me like I’m a bowl of potstickers for years, and I was wondering if you were ever going to make a move.”
“Why would I look at you like you’re food?”
“I meant you were looking at me like I’m something you want to eat, Kara.”
“I’m not that kind of alien.”
Lena tensed, breathing sharply as she looked stunned and a little hurt.
“Wait,” Kara blurted, “oh Rao that was a joke, I didn’t mean I don’t want to… I really do want… I just , I’m… I don’t know what to say now.”
“I’m in love with you,” Lena sighed.
Kara froze. “You… you’re… with me… IIloveyoutoo.”
The mashed-together declaration had barely escaped her lips when Lena lunged closer and kissed her. From there it was pure chaos. Lena pulled and Kara followed, rapidly ending up on top of her as she shimmied out of last night’s outfit.
Kara pulled back from a soul-burning kiss as she felt the heat of Lena’s bare skin under her hands.
“Wait,” she said. “If I picked truth last night, what would you have asked?”
Lena smirked.
“Why do you stare at my chest all the time?”
Kara laughed, snorting a little.
“I’ll show you.”
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poisonlove · 2 months
Text
study Session | c.s
Tumblr media
words: 13k
Part 1
"When are you going to have Professor Miller read your work?" Cairo asks curiously.
We were in Cairo's room, a cozy space with emerald green walls, a queen-sized bed in the center, and a sturdy wooden desk a few steps to the left. Despite having a window, the room was dimly lit, almost immersed in darkness.
but the acoustics were impressive.
"Don't even think about it," I say, eyes widening at her suggestion, feeling panic rising within me.
"And why not?" Cairo asks with a small smile on her lips, her eyes focused on the notebook she was writing in with a concentrated expression.
With her free hand, she brings the cigarette to her mouth, inhaling slowly.
She was damn sexy when she smoked, well, she was always sexy, but her charm was amplified by her natural beauty. Her sparkling eyes, long dark hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders, charming smile... Her intelligence and demeanor were captivating and intriguing at the same time. My crush on Cairo had grown recklessly in these days, but at least now I wasn't a bundle of nerves all the time; we could chat without my cheeks turning as red as fire every time she smiled at me.
I glance at my notebook, tapping the pen on the paper searching for some kind of inspiration. The study sessions had been going on for two weeks now, and my assignments were less dreadful than usual. Professor Miller had assigned us a task where we had to choose a book we had been studying over the past few months and try to immerse ourselves in their story.
As usual, a stupid assignment.
I snort loudly, and Cairo looks at me sideways, a smile playing on her lips. "Are you struggling?" she asks amusedly, her hand stopping on her notebook's paper.
"I don't know how to do it... Why the hell did I choose Zeno's Conscience?" I say exasperatedly, hands sinking into my cheeks as my mind works on possible solutions.
"Mmmh... I see," Cairo raises the corners of her lips and tosses the cigarette butt into the ashtray next to the bed.
"Aren't you struggling? You've been writing continuously for 10 minutes," I ask impatiently, a little jealous of her incredible qualities.
"I actually finished the report yesterday," she confesses quickly, shrugging.
My eyes widen, and my jaw nearly drops to the floor. "What? Then what the hell are you writing?" I say in shock, surprised that Cairo had already finished the task that I had barely started.
"A personal report," she says absentmindedly, looking at her notebook.
Curiosity takes hold of me.
Without hesitation, my instinct urges me to quickly reach for Cairo's notebook. Her expression transforms into a mix of surprise and nervousness as my hand grabs the notebook firmly. "Give it to me," Cairo says nervously.
I can sense her worry in the way her body leans towards me, eager to get the notebook back from the black cover.
I lay back against the mattress, keeping a certain distance between me and Cairo, whose chest draws closer to mine as she desperately tries to retrieve her notebook. With one hand, I hold the notebook open, while with the other, I keep Cairo at bay.
"Dream," I pronounce aloud, smiling at the surprised expression on Cairo's face.
Cairo hurriedly sits on my lap, her face tense with anxiety as she reaches for the notebook. I can feel the warmth of her body close to mine, but her worried expression warns me of the tension in her soul. Without hesitation, Cairo drops the notebook to the ground with a brisk motion, while her hand suddenly lands next to my face in an attempt to maintain balance. Her black hair brushes against my cheeks, the sudden contact and the rustle of the pages falling to the ground adding to the agitation of the moment.
A flash of anger appears in Cairo's eyes as she abruptly rises from my body to pick up her notebook from the floor. I can see the tension in her movements as she clutches the notebook tightly to her chest.
"Are you out of your mind?" she exclaims angrily, her voice filled with frustration and disappointment.
My heart races in my chest as I try to understand what happened.
My mind is confused, and the air around us seems tense. I sit on the bed, trying to calm the agitation growing within me, while Cairo holds the notebook tight against her chest, her expression hard and angry.
"I didn't mean to..." I start to say, but the words fade into nothingness as I try to find an explanation for what happened. My mind is in turmoil, and the feeling of guilt weighs heavily on me as I try to confront Cairo's anger.
Her sharp voice brings me back to reality.
"Is violating my privacy a joke to you?" she asks sarcastically, her tone as cold as ice. I blush with embarrassment, and my words get stuck in my throat as I try to find a justification for my actions.
"What did you read?" Cairo asks, her voice now colder than ever.
Her posture is rigid, her shoulders tense, and her jaw clenched, and I suddenly feel small and defenseless in the face of her anger.
"Nothing, I swear," I stammer nervously, trying to placate her fury with my trembling words. "It was just a joke... I didn't mean to..." I continue to say, but my apologies seem to fall on deaf ears in the face of her rage.
The tension in the air is palpable as I desperately try to find a way out of this difficult situation.
"What's going on here?" someone suddenly asks.
We both turn towards the entrance of the room and see Winnie, Cairo's roommate, looking at us with confusion. Winnie has a raised eyebrow as her gaze shifts between Cairo and me, filled with suspicion.
"Nothing special," Cairo replies coldly, heading towards the window. "Y/n was just leaving," she adds confidently.
Winnie seems perplexed, but decides not to delve further. "Alright then. Sorry if I interrupted something," she says with a hint of embarrassment, sensing the discomfort in the air.
"You didn't interrupt anything," Cairo replies angrily.
"Um... Bye Cairo," I say timidly but she continues to silently stare out the window, lost in her thoughts.I sigh and leave the room, feeling terribly guilty.
(...)
"Professor Miller, can I talk to you for a moment?" I ask timidly, biting my lower lip nervously.
The professor nods and smiles weakly, looking at me with curiosity as I approach his desk.
I can feel Cairo's gaze behind me, but I'm too scared to meet her eyes. I know she's still angry with me. However, I hope that what I'm about to do might make her forgive me, at least a little.
"I would like to talk to you about something," I say timidly.
"Is it about Friday's assignment?" he asks curiously, his brown eyes trying to read mine.
I shake my head.
"I would like you to read something," I say, my body tensing with tension."Oh, what a surprise," he smiles widely, showing his white teeth.
I still feel Cairo's gaze.
"I wrote it a while ago," I say, grabbing the folded sheet I had put in my pocket. "I've always been afraid to let anyone read it... but I would like to ask you to read it when you're alone," I add timidly.
The professor seems somewhat surprised, but nods understandingly. "Alright, I can understand. It will be between us, I promise," he assures, accepting the sheet.
With a sigh of relief, I leave the room, ignoring Cairo's gaze, but this time with a new determination to pursue what matters to me.
Five long days have passed since I last spoke to Cairo.
Her absence has become a constant weight on my shoulders, and anxiety torments me as I wonder if I will ever have the opportunity to clear things up with her.
Meanwhile, I receive comforting news from Professor Miller. He informs me that my work has truly impressed him and that the assignment on Zeno's conscience was outstanding. His support and compliments give me a sense of relief and gratitude, partially alleviating the burden of tensions with Cairo.
With a sigh of relief, I reassure myself knowing that I have passed his class, but deep down I know that there are more pressing issues I need to address.
I find myself talking to some friends, joking and laughing to distract myself from the stressful situation.
"Hey, everything okay? You seemed a little nervous earlier," Emma asks curiously.
"Oh, yeah, everything's okay. Just a little hiccup, nothing to worry about," I smile nervously.
"Did you hear what happened in class today? It was really funny!" Joy chimes in, smiling at me.
"No, what happened?" I ask, happy for her enthusiasm.
We continue talking, trying to keep the atmosphere light even though my mind is still worried about the situation with Cairo. Then, I see Winnie approaching us with a serious expression and she calls me aside.
I glimpse a shiver of concern in her eyes and wonder what she might mean.
"Cairo wants to talk to you... Can you go to her room?" Winnie asks me, her voice tinged with concern.
My mind goes into overdrive as I try to understand what Cairo might want from me. With a knot in my stomach, I reluctantly nod. "Yes, sure. I'll go to her right away."
I head towards Cairo's room, trying to mentally prepare myself for the impending conversation.
Anxiety grips me as I approach the door, but I decide to face the situation with courage.
I lightly knock on the door and wait with my heart pounding in my chest.
"Go ahead," Cairo says with a calm tone of voice.
I open the door and see Cairo standing near her bed, holding the notebook in her hands. "Did you want to see me?" I say with curiosity and nervousness.
Cairo bites her lower lip nervously and sighs loudly. "I... I wanted to apologize for my reaction last time," she says timidly, embarrassed.
"I overreacted," she adds almost in a whisper.
I feel a wave of relief and gratitude as I look at her. "I also wanted to apologize," I reply sincerely, feeling the weight of tension dissolve between us.
"I shouldn't have taken the notebook without permission," I say with embarrassment.
Cairo smiles weakly, making butterflies flutter in my stomach.
"By the way..." She begins, hesitating, "I wanted to read you something..." She says nervously.
"You're not obligated," I say gently, trying to alleviate her anxiety.
"No, I have to do it," Cairo says firmly, sighing loudly. "Just... Don't comment until I'm finished," she says anxiously, looking at me with pleading eyes.
I nod and wait for Cairo to gather courage.
"In the silence of the night, among the yellowed pages of my favorite books, I found refuge. I have always been a dream seeker, a solitary traveler in the realms of imagination, but even in the deepest solitude, I found an inexhaustible companion: knowledge."
Cairo's voice resonates in the darkness of the room, warm and enveloping. It's like a gentle breeze, delicate yet determined, carrying with it a note of serenity and understanding. Her tone is calm and tranquil, but manages to convey deep emotion and subtle vulnerability.
"For years, I wandered among the words written by illuminated minds, hungry for wisdom and eager to understand the world around me. But in my journey, I encountered not only the light of knowledge but also the shadow of my own uncertainty."
Cairo sighs loudly.
"My intelligence, a gift and a curse at the same time, has created a labyrinth of doubts and fears within me. I often felt lonely, lost in my thoughts, and unable to find a kindred soul who could understand the complexity of my mind."
I can perceive a slight tension in her voice, a controlled intensity that betrays her inner emotion
"I envisioned my perfect companion, a man who could peer into me and see beyond my insecurities. But time brought disappointments, and the void in my heart grew, becoming a painful echo in the corridors of my soul. Yet, in the darkness of my despair, I found a sudden light. It wasn't the man I had dreamed of, but a girl with bright eyes and a gentle smile. In her, I found an understanding I had never known before, a bond that transcended gender and convention."
Cairo's grip on the notebook becomes ironclad.
"In her words, I found comfort; in her embrace, I found security. And so, my dream of a perfect companion transformed, no longer an ideal man but a hope embodied in a brave and compassionate girl. Now I know that my journey is no longer solitary, that I can face life's storms with the courage of one who knows she is not alone.
Thank you...
because thanks to this assignment Professor Miller gave us, I finally had the chance to get to know you better. I must admit that, even though I would never have said it before, I've liked you for months. Since I first noticed you in class, with your infectious smile and your eyes shining with curiosity."
Cairo smiles widely, her eyes becoming teary as she reads.
"But I was so scared, so convinced that I was too broken, too strange to deserve your attention. I was afraid of boring you with my insecurities, of taking away your smile with my fears. And so, I limited myself to watching you from afar, trying to hide what I felt and hoping you would never notice my presence."
Cairo's jaw trembles, her voice wavering.
"But now, thanks to this assignment, I had the chance to get to know you better, to discover your world and to understand that maybe, just maybe, I'm not as broken as I thought. And even though I don't know what the future holds for us, I'm grateful for this opportunity you've given me, for allowing me to get to know you better and to discover that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for me.
Thank you."
Cairo looks up at me with determination, her eyes shimmering and red from crying. I just wanted to go to her and hold her against my chest until she calmed down.
"If you're listening to these words, it means I've finally found the courage to say what I feel. I don't expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but I wanted you to know how important you've been to me on this journey."
Cairo's voice continues to break, sobs threatening to break through.
"Thank you for giving me the chance to live this experience, to add a new chapter to my life that I never thought I'd write. You've been a turning point, an inspiration, and for that, I'll always be grateful. This moment will remain a precious memory in my mind. Thank you for being part of this experience, for making me feel alive and brave."
Cairo smiles widely, her lower lip trembling, her shoulders shaking more.
"Even if our journey together ends here, I know the lessons I've learned from you will stay with me forever. Thank you for teaching me to find the courage to be honest with myself and with others."
After Cairo finishes reading, she looks at me with teary eyes, but a delicate smile forms on her lips. I feel a weight on my chest, a mixture of gratitude and emotion that makes me want to cry.
Without hesitation, I quickly approach Cairo and wrap my arms around her shoulders, embracing her tightly. Cairo is carried away by the emotions, and we both burst into tears, our tears mingling in an intense and liberating hug.
After a while, Cairo calms down, but she still keeps her arms around me. Cairo looks up and gazes at me gently.
"Just to make sure... Does it speak about me?" I ask timidly, biting my lower lip. "If it's not you, who should it be?" she asks, chuckling and rolling her eyes at my comment.
"Professor Miller?" I say mischievously, and she nudges me lightly.
Cairo continues to hold her chin up, silently asking me something. With my heart pounding in anticipation, I lean in slightly and press my lips against hers, initiating the long-awaited kiss. My hand delicately rests against her cheek, caressing it gently as we let ourselves be carried away by the intensity of the moment. Cairo pulls me closer, making me smile during the kiss.
As the oxygen dwindles, we reluctantly break the kiss, our foreheads resting against each other. Our smiles widen as we gaze into each other's eyes with affection and gratitude.
"You've taught me so much too, my Muse," I whisper softly, feeling the warmth of her breath against my face.
Cairo smiles again and pulls me towards her for a long and much-desired kiss.
@classypauli
@thebloomonster
420 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
oh love, i'm terrified
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is terrifying'
rated t | 1,585 words | cw: negative self views | tags: falling in love, getting together, love confessions, sappy and fluffy
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
He thought he was being obvious.
He doesn't do this stuff for everyone else. He doesn't show up after work to hang out for no reason other than just wanting to be around the other person. He doesn't talk on the phone for three hours in the middle of the night to comfort the other person after nightmares. He doesn't fucking stargaze with anyone.
But with Eddie he does. Steve always goes out of his way for Eddie.
He knows why, and he feels like everyone can see it too: he loves him.
But somehow, Eddie doesn't see it, or chooses not to.
Even Dustin, oblivious to human emotion as anyone else Steve's ever met, pulled him aside after Hellfire one night --yes, he even attends Hellfire now-- to ask if he knew he was flirting with Eddie so much.
Robin and Nancy had called him out on two different occasions for touching him too much in public, but he hadn't even realized his hand had gone to his waist!
And Eddie still seemed clueless.
Or at least, most of the time he seemed clueless.
Sometimes, though, Steve could swear he looked at him in a specific way, a way that Steve would think is understanding and maybe even returned feelings. But he never said anything, never did anything out of the ordinary for Eddie.
Months of wondering what the hell he could do differently, months of being less and less subtle every day, months of showing how much he loved him without actually saying it.
All for Eddie to still be oblivious.
But not tonight,
Tonight, he was going to Eddie's to have dinner and watch a movie. Wayne was on a fishing trip with his buddies from work, and all the kids were at the same summer camp, probably torturing underpaid teenage counselors.
No interruptions were possible.
He could bring out all his moves, and if Eddie still didn't get it by the end of the night, maybe he could even use his words.
"Dinner's almost ready!" Eddie yelled from the kitchen as Steve let himself in. "I didn't burn anything!"
Steve rolled his eyes fondly. "Sounds like something someone who burnt dinner would say."
"I didn't! I mean one edge is a little crispy on the lasagna, but I think that's because our oven is older than Wayne. You think the government could've given us a better oven for my troubles, but apparently not," Eddie turned to Steve standing in the doorway. "You look...nice."
Steve always liked to look nice, but he'd decided to dress up a little bit tonight, try to make his intentions clear right from the start. His hair was done as usual, but he was wearing his khaki slacks instead of jeans and his nicest navy polo instead of the t-shirts he'd mostly been wearing outside of work. He even sprung for his watch that his dad gave him as a graduation gift. He hated to know how much money was wasted on it, but it did look nice.
"Thanks. You do too," Steve replied.
Eddie looked down at his own clothes and back up at Steve. "Dude, I'm wearing sweats and a t-shirt that has more holes than cloth. You don't have to lie."
"I'm not lying. You always look best when you're comfy," Steve shrugged. "Need help with anything?"
Eddie shook his head. "Not unless you wanna grab beers from the fridge. I forgot to get some this afternoon so they're just Wayne's PBRs, but a cold beer's a good beer, right?"
"Right," Steve agreed, walking to the fridge to grab the beers.
Dinner went as dinner usually does, except they actually sat at the table this time instead of the couch. Eddie seemed surprised when Steve set his things down in front of the chair he only sat in to keep Eddie company while he planned for campaigns, but just silently joined him.
They talked and joked, they made themselves laugh so hard beer almost came out of Eddie's nose. It was perfect.
After, Steve started working on the dishes, Eddie standing by the counter watching.
He was quiet, which was unusual, especially when no one else was around to fill the silence.
"Everything okay, Eds?" Steve asked as he scrubbed a particularly difficult area on a fork.
"What? Oh. Yeah."
Steve turned to look at him, suddenly worried when he saw Eddie's face turned down to the floor. This wasn't them. They'd just had a nice dinner, and now Eddie was being...shy?
Now was his chance. He could say it. Robin would be proud of him for finally just doing it.
Hell, he'd be proud of himself for doing it.
But something seemed wrong, and the last thing Steve wanted was to turn a good night bad because he couldn't reign in his feelings for a bit.
He wiped his hands on the towel by the sink and turned fully towards Eddie.
"What's wrong?"
Eddie shook his head once, then sighed. "I kind of feel like I've been wined and dined tonight. And that's ridiculous because you're just one of my best friends, and you're straight, and it's all been in my head for months, but-"
"Woah. Wait." Steve interrupted. "You've been noticing that for months? And you didn't say anything?"
"Well, no. I didn't wanna ruin our friendship because I can't handle my own hopes getting up." Eddie leaned away from Steve further. "I know you don't mean it that way. I don't want you to change anything."
"Eds-"
"And if you do want to, that's fine! Whatever would make you comfortable. I just have to say it's feeling very 'I have romantic feelings' for you territory and I know you don't so."
"Eddie."
"I'm also not good at that though. No one's ever shown interest in me other than one girl in high school who ended up moving away a week later so I didn't even have to break her heart."
Steve crashed his lips to Eddie's, half hoping it would shut him up, and half hoping he would somehow keep rambling. He kind of loved watching him ramble.
It did shut him up. Even when Steve pulled away, Eddie's silence was deafening.
"Sorry. I should've asked if I could first, but I don't think you would have even heard me. Was that okay?" Steve asked.
"Why did you do that?" Eddie sounded heartbroken.
That's not what Steve wanted at all.
"I wanted to. I have wanted to."
"No you don't."
This was not going the way Steve had hoped for. "How would you know I don't?"
"Because I'm me! I'm just the dude who gets the good weed, and says funny shit, and cooks dinner sometimes. I'm not a girl Steve Harrington falls in love with, or even takes on a date. I'm not the type you build a relationship and future with. I'm just the guy who gets to watch everyone else do that. I'm not good for that."
"What the hell do you mean?" Steve was angry now. Who had convinced Eddie he couldn't have good things, couldn't be loved or love someone, couldn't be important? "You're Eddie Munson. You saved us all from an evil wizard dude and nearly died doing it. You're the guy who makes me a sandwich when I come over for Hellfire even though there's strict no eating during the campaign rules because you know I've been working all day and need to eat. You turn all my bad days good, and make my life better just because you're you."
"Steve-"
"My turn." Steve crowded him against the counter, hands cupping his cheeks and eyes boring into Eddie's. "I need you to understand something. I've been trying to show how much I care about you, how much I love you, for months, and I've been thinking I've just been terrible at it. I thought I truly did lose all my charm. I've been pulling all my moves out for you. I was starting to think maybe you just were trying to ignore it all to let me down easy, but it isn't that. It's because you don't see how fucking amazing you are, isn't it?"
Eddie's eyes were shining with unshed tears.
"Because you are. You're incredible. Maybe the best person I've ever known other than Robin. I find excuses to be near you. I find reasons to talk to you. I didn't even have a nightmare the other night, I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm in love with you. Like, the real stupid, do anything for you even if it hurts me kind. And if you don't feel anything for me besides friendship, I'll leave right now and I'll do my best to get over it so we can be friends."
"And if I do?"
"If you do love me, then you should kiss me."
"I've never kissed anyone."
"That's not true. We kissed two minutes ago," Steve smirked, his heart racing in his chest.
"I'm scared," Eddie's whispered admittance nearly broke Steve's heart.
"Oh love, I'm terrified. Love is like that. But we've faced scarier things, haven't we?"
Eddie's soft lips against his own was the only answer he needed.
Love was terrifying, even for Steve, maybe especially for Steve, who was used to giving a lot more love than he received back. But as they kissed in Eddie's kitchen for seconds that turned to minutes, minutes that turned to hours, they got just a bit less scared.
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Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
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Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Content : angst, fluff, friends to lovers, jealousy, sexual tension
Word Count : 2.4k
Summary : Anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever. 
A/N : I’ve been reading/watching Bridgerton again, so I had to write for my lovely Anthony. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy! 
Anthony raised his glass to his lips as he watched the rest of the “eligible young ladies” at the ball circle him, grateful for your presence at his side. 
“My, my. It is almost as if you are a vulture's prey.” You tease, fixing a delicate button on the wrist of your perfectly crisp, white glove. 
Anthony snorts at your comment. “Please, my lady. Vultures are much more interesting than the ladies circling my person.” He pauses, looking down at you fiddling with your button. He reaches out gently, “If I may,” he mutters quietly, reaching out to fix the offender. An electric jolt passes through you, and you have to keep your eyes on your glove to resist the urge to pull away quickly. You did not wish him to know how you felt about him. 
“Thank you, my lord.” You respond, nodding your head politely and giving him a small smile. He regards you for a moment before bowing and offering you his hand. 
“May I have this dance?” 
“I suppose.” You say, taking on a teasing tone again. Anthony outright smiles at this, leading you to the ballroom floor. It always came easy to dance with you, Anthony realized. It was as if you both could read each other’s next movements perfectly. After all, you had been friends since you were wee babes, crawling through the Bridgertons’ lush garden. You regard him slightly before saying “Have you found a suitable wife yet, Anthony?”
Anthony’s dark eyes settle on yours, and he has to keep from swallowing thickly. Something about the way you settled all of your attention on him had always made him nervous, always making his heart beat a bit too fast. “No.” he says quietly. “None of them are suitable. This is not to be a love match, strictly business, but I cannot imagine any of the women here as my life partner.” He looks down at you again, unable to read the look on your face for the first time in what felt like quite a while. 
“Well.” You say. “On my front I do not have any prospects. No one seems to wish to marry me.” 
“Why would that be?” Anthony questions, too quickly, he thinks. 
“It may have something to do with the fact that we seem to be attached at the hip at every ball we happen to grace with our presence.”
We. Anthony wants to shiver at that word, thinking about you being attached to him was too good to be true. You were much too good for a rake such as himself. His eyebrows knit together and he tilts his head slightly. “Should I leave you here amongst all these people on the ballroom floor?” Now he took on a teasing tone, secretly satisfied that he can pull an eyeroll or annoyed look from your otherwise prim and proper stature. 
You do roll your eyes, shaking your head at him slightly. “You leave me on this dancefloor by myself and I have no doubts even the most boring high society lady here would turn their nose up at you.” You pretend to sniff, as if your feelings were hurt. “And to think, I was under the impression you were my dearest friend.” 
Anthony dips you slightly as the song draws to a close. The vanilla perfume wafting from your exposed neck and up to him. It’s intoxicating to him and he rights the two of you quickly, clearing his throat as he steps back. “I thank you rather kindly for the dance, my lady.” You nod to him, watching as he walks away with a broad step. 
You furrow your brows, wondering why his attitude had changed suddenly, when you are approached by Lord Nikolai Andros, who asks you for a dance. You smile at him graciously, pleasantly surprised that he had approached you, and you would be able to dance with someone other than Anthony for once. 
Dancing with Anthony just made your feelings all the stronger, and you did not know how much longer you could endure being his dearest friend. You curtsy to Lord Andros, following gracefully as he spins you across the ballroom. You wondered idly why he so suddenly expressed an interest to dance with you, but it was exciting to dance with someone else. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if your dance card was to be filled by Anthony Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton alone. 
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From across the ballroom, Anthony had his hands clenched at his sides, watching Andros spin you across the ballroom. You were much too good for Andros, and if he was a rake, Andros was a bigger one, known for not being particularly faithful to his late wife. 
Benedict slides up next to Anthony, following his gaze. “I say, is that Andros?” 
“Yes.” Anthony replies, voice clipped and tight. 
“Hm.” Benedict huffs, “She seems to be rather enjoying herself, wouldn’t you say, brother?” 
“It would appear so, yes, Benedict.” Anthony replies, trying to keep his voice from sounding too strained. 
Benedict smirked. “Yourself, however..” clamping his mouth shut with an innocent shrug when Anthony gives him a look suggesting he could kill. However, Benedict continues on, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You love her.” 
Anthony opens his mouth, then closes it again, his perfect jaw set in anger, denial, or perhaps both. He shakes his head at Benedict, as if to say not here. He knows he has to be a better man for you, but the thought is too painful to bear at the moment, while you spin across the floor in another man’s arms. 
Benedict raises his hands slightly as he backs away from his brother, nodding his head in your direction again, where you were curtsying to Andros. Anthony feels heat rise in his chest as Andros maintains eye contact with you, and before he can comprehend what he’s doing, he strides back over to you. 
“My lady, would you like to promenade with some of the other young men and women in the garden? They have taken to admiring the rose bushes.” Anthony doesn’t wait for an answer before he gently grasps your elbow and steers you towards the open doors to the garden. Both of you pretend not to feel the butterflies that appear when the two of you touch. 
“Anthony, whatever are you doing?” You half whisper. “You did not even acknowledge Lord Andros.” 
Anthony leans in and whispers, almost harsh with you. “You cannot court that man.” 
You stop walking, pulling your arm out of his grasp. “I do not believe you are the authority on that matter, Lord Bridgerton.” 
“Do not use my title because you are vexed at me, little bird.” Anthony says, his childhood nickname for you slipping from his lips effortlessly. You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows that this is you demanding an explanation. He licks his lips and glances around at the other ball guests milling about. None of them seem any the wiser of the tiff the two of you were beginning to have. 
“I will stand here for as long as I possibly can. This overprotective nature is not unlike you, but you have never outright sought me out to tell me to not court a gentleman.” 
Anthony sighs, starting to become frustrated. “He..is of the rakish variety.”
You snort. 
Anthony’s perplexed eyes meet yours and you shrug. “And you are not, Anthony?” 
“He is worse. He had many a mistress while his wife was ill in their marriage bed.” 
You grimace and Anthony nods almost smugly. “See. You are much too good for a man like that.” 
“If I am much too good, why am I yet to be wed?”
“I…” Anthony starts, faltering over his words. He had no answer. 
You step closer to him, your voice low. “I will tell you the reason. It is because of you.” 
Anthony swallows, looking down at you. You are much closer to him than he usually allowed himself to be, and your intoxicating scent and god, the way the light in your eyes trapped him made him more than nervous. “Me?” he questions. 
“Yes, Anthony. You. Every person in the ton believes me to belong to you. They pity me. Oh poor girl,” You start to mock, affecting your tone “that Lord Bridgerton is just stringing her along.” Your nostrils flare. “However, here you are, deciding to marry, using me as a pawn to get these most delightful young ladies to leave you alone.” You feel tears starting to sting your eyes, the hurt of not being the object of Anthony’s affections threatening to spill over. “I am not willing to be your pawn any longer, Anthony.” 
Anthony watches your face, devastated as he realizes that you feel the same longing for him as he feels for you. “Little bird, I-”
You hold up a hand. “No. I do not wish to hear what you have to say to me any longer. It is time I retire, anyhow. Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton.” You say, turning on your heel quickly, just as hot tears begin to flow down your cheeks. Rushing out to your carriage, you ignore your mother, choosing to spend the ride home in heartbreaking silence. Your mother says nothing, just clasps your hand gently, which makes you cry all the more. 
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The next morning, Anthony is pacing in his study, wondering if he should call on you. Would you even want to see him? Should he just leave you be? Would it be better to give up everything the two of you shared so he did not cause you such pain again? 
Before Anthony can make up his mind, you walk through the door to his study. His back is turned to you, and you can hear him audibly sigh. 
“Benedict, I truly do not have the mind to-” He stops as he turns around, mouth dry. There you stood, a beautiful pale purple dress accentuating the very air of loveliness that seemed to follow you wherever you went. 
“Hello, Anthony.” You say quietly, watching as he fumbles, setting his bourbon glass down shakily and coming around the front of his desk. 
“You have given up calling me Lord Bridgerton, then?” He asks, his voice sounding strangely strained. 
“Yes. I apologize for being cross with you yesterday evening. I just..” You pause, and Anthony takes this as his opportunity to come toward you. He comes close, looking down at you with his beautiful dark eyes. 
“What is it?” He asks, afraid of what your answer may be. He was expecting you to tell him that you never wished to see him again, and he would have to accept that and let go of you. He desperately prayed that you did not come to lock him out of your life forever. 
“I have fallen in love with you, Anthony. I know how you feel about love, because of your father. But I cannot sit by idly while you look for a wife that is not me. I am going to court Lord Andros, and you will have to accept that, because I cannot allow you to look over me, when all I have wanted for as long as I can remember is the reciprocation of my feelings from you.” 
Anthony stood there, shocked beyond belief. You did feel the same way about him. He was not making up the pained look you had on your face at the ball the previous night. He felt as if someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart, and he could hear his ears ringing. He did not know what to say. 
“I will take my leave from you.” You say, turning and making your way back to the large oak study door. 
Suddenly, Anthony snaps out of his stupor. “No!” He almost yells, quickly moving to place his hand on the door, barring you from opening it. This is the closest the two of you have been in quite a while. Your bodice touching his chest, his nose almost touching yours. You inhale sharply, gazing up at him. “Let me explain my wretched behavior darling, but please do not take your leave of me.” Anthony pleads, his voice dripping with desperation. Taken aback, you give him a tiny nod, still mesmerized by the proximity in which the two of you stood. 
Anthony glances at the door, then to your face, and then he gently brings his hands up to cradle your face. Your eyes widen, and his brows furrow. 
“I…”He bites his bottom lip, his eyes flicking to your lips before sighing. “I long for you. I long for your attention. I cannot sleep without thinking of you. I cannot read a book or discuss politics without thinking of what you may say or how you may react. I long for your company when I awake in the morning and long after I have gone to bed. My soul desperately aches for you as if you are a piece missing from it. Seeing you with Andros solidified this feeling for me even more. Watching another man take your hand in his…I could have sobbed at the sight of it. You haunt every part of my being and I cannot deny it any longer.” 
“Anthony…” You breathe out, eyes roaming his beautiful face. 
“I love you. I love you, I love you.” He says, bringing his face closer to yours each time he says it. “I am terrified of love, my little bird, but I love you so deeply that if you will have me, I will spend the rest of my days cherishing you.” He breathes out, as if he had been holding in a breath, and he leans his forehead against yours gently. 
You reach up, using a finger to smooth the furrow in his brow. “I love you most ardently, Anthony Bridgerton.”
Anthony is so relieved, he leans in and captures your lips in his without thinking clearly. Worried he may have made a mistake kissing you before you were to be wed, he tries to pull away. 
You grab his lapel and keep him close, smiling into his lips. 
“Marry me.” He breathes out, running a finger along your bottom lip after you’ve pulled back from him. 
“The answer has always been yes.” You whisper back, gazing at him lovingly. Anthony grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms. He cannot wait for you to be by his side for the years to come. He hums contentedly, hugging you as he should have done so very long ago.
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firelilyfox · 1 month
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Back To You
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Wonka: Willy Wonka x female reader
Warnings: nsfw / fluff / se&ual actions / love confessions
Words: 1,5k
Summary: Willy just got almost drowned in chocolate & you take him home so he can get a nice and warm shower ... things get a little bit out of control
____________________
Willy almost got drowned in chocolate but it doesn’t seem to bother him that much. Because now he finally was free from being bullied and sabotaged by the three mean chocolatiers. 
All covered in chocolate he was standing on the marketplace, watching the people around him cheering and applauding. That’s when something catches his attention. 
You. 
The girl he had a crush on since he’d come to this town with that boat. You were the first person he met that night, but you didn’t know, because he just saw you from afar. 
Since then Willy was a little bit … obsessed with you as someone would might say. 
„Willy? What happened?!“, you shouted as you saw him standing there all covered in sugar sweet liquid. 
He smiled cheeky. „Oh nothing important. I just almost got killed by three evil chocolatiers, but eventually got saved by a little orange man with a flying machine.“ 
Your jaw dropped in disbelief. „Excuse me?“ 
„I said …“ 
„I know what you said, Willy!“, you interrupted him briefly. „Well I shouldn’t be that surprised, because you experience the wildest adventures, but this one seems kinda extreme even for you.“ 
Willy scratches the back of his head ashamed and realised that the chocolate already began to dry. 
You frowned. “You have to get that off of your body before you become a life size chocolate man.” 
“I guess you’re right, even if the idea of being made out of chocolate is kinda tempting”, Willy said. “I probably should take a bath in the harbour to get it off.” 
Your jaw dropped again. “Did you hit your head while being almost drowned? You can’t take a bath in the harbour while tasting like a treat. You will get eaten by a shark and after that he becomes diabetic!” 
Determined you take his hand and pull him after you. A big smile appeared on Willys face as he risked a look at your tangled hands. 
“You can take a shower at my place. The warm water will wash all of this sticky stuff off in no time!” 
Willy gladly obliged to your stubbornness and followed you back home. 
Back at your tiny apartment you gave Willy some towels and dry clothes, that you brother once left while he was visiting town. When you hear the water splashing you realized for the first time what’s happening right now. In you bathroom was a man. Naked. 
All of a sudden your cheeks began to burn and you heart just made the attempt to jump right out of your chest. You couldn’t bring your thoughts to focus on anything else than … him being … naked. 
„Thank you for the warm shower, y/n. Its truly a relief to…“ he keeps on talking, but your ears weren’t capable of listening anymore because he just stepped outside the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. 
The air got a little steamy because of the hot water and his dark curls were soaked and falling over his face. Willy looked like a dream that weren’t meant to be real. 
„Are you alright?“, he asked concerned and comes closer to you. His hand touched your face and you snapped out of admiring him. „Don’t tell me you are getting sick.“ 
„I-I’m not sick. I-I just …“, you stuttered. He was so close to you, that if you would just reach out your hand a bit, you could touch him. But you were way to shy for that. 
His gaze softened. „Good. Because you had me worried for a second.“ 
„You were worried about me being a little sick? Why?“
He moved his thumb gently over your cheek without even considering to let go of you. „Because … because I care about you, y/n.“ 
„Why?“, your mind was long gone, that’s why you couldn’t think of any response that would made sense. But Willy didn’t seem to bother. He chuckled softly. 
„Because I really like you.“ 
Your heart was pounding like it just ran a marathon by itself. Then it stopped, just to pound even faster. „I like you too, Willy.“ 
Slowly he leaned his forehead against yours, still touching your warm cheeks. His eyes closed like he was fighting with himself about what to do next. „My consciousness is telling me to put my clothes on and leaving for good. But my mind wants me to kiss you so bad. I don’t know what to do.“ 
A little smile showed on your face. Willy was not a man who talks in riddles. He only speaks the truth and doesn’t care about what the people would think. „I always liked the way your mind works.“ 
Willy didn’t need to hear more. He kissed you. So slow that it would almost be in slow motion. His lips felt soft on yours. Tiny water drops were falling down from his wet hair, but you didn’t bother. Your hands find their way up his chest and holding on to him while resting around his neck. Willy was quiet tall, so you had to go up on your tiptoes while he had his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your bodies together. 
You could feel how much he liked to kiss you and couldn’t help but smile devilishly. Without even think about it, you paused kissing Willy and grabbed the fabric of your dress and pulled it over your head. He was just staring at you with mixed emotions showing in his eyes. 
„What are you doing?“, he asked slowly and out of breath. You could see in his eyes that he clearly enjoyed this, but he was too much of a gentleman to ever take advantage of you. 
„I thought it was a little unfair to let you be the only one being … not fully clothed.“ The only thing you were wearing right now was a thin underdress. He was looking at you with a deep desire in his eyes, that you couldn’t ever escape. 
Willy had to swallow hard. „You don’t have to … I mean I would never …“
„I want to“, you simply replied. 
And again, Willy didn’t need more confirmation. He made a step forward and his lips crashed against yours. A surprised noice came out of your throat but you leaned into the kiss in no time. His hands grabbed your waist, making clear what his intensions were. He wanted you. 
His touch leaves your skin burning in desire for more and before you could even catch a breath his hands grabbed your legs and you find yourself wrapped around his waist. His hair was soft between your fingers and if you gently pulled it, he let out a little groan. 
„You have no idea what you do to me“, his voice sounds dark and heavy. „Being with you feels like magic to me.“ 
Willy walked over to your bed and as he managet to let you down gently, the towel vanished from his body. He kissed you passionately while his hands find their way beneath your underdress, exploring your body. The useless fabric joined the towel on the floor and you could feel him skin to skin. A little moan escaped your lips as you feel his length inside you and Willy moved slowly to give you time to get used to the intense feeling. 
„How does it feel, my love?“, he whispered to make sure if you are alright. 
You smiled. „Like magic.“ 
He began to move, slowly at first to find a rhythm. With every kiss and every touch he gets faster and you couldn’t keep it quiet any longer. His kisses find your neck and his grip got so much tighter. You hold onto him with everything fiber while reaching the climax at the same time as he does. 
His muscles began to relax again and you could feel his weight on your body. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and Willy buried his face at your neck, breathing in your scent. Time passes. You had no idea how long the two of you stayed in that position, but you wished it could last forever. 
„You called me my love.“ The words were spoken before you could even think about it. 
Willy raised his head to look at you with a satisfied smile on his swollen lips. He looked so angelic that it was almost not real. „That’s because you own it. You own my love. You own my heart. Since the day I stepped into this town … I am yours, y/n.“ 
You could see in his eyes, that he truly meant every word. „I love you too, Willy Wonka.“ You whispered and kiss him softly. 
„I’m very aware how bad the timing is … but I kinda have something that needs to be done. I arranged that Noodle can meet her mother for the first time in her life and … I don’t want to miss that.“ His eyes were full of sorrow. Willy was afraid that you might get mad at him for leaving again just after the two of you … found together. 
„You go and do what needs to be done. I will be here.“ You made clear that you understand his good intentions by touching his cheeks and followed the line of his lip with your thumb. „Will you come back to me after that?“ 
Willy smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. „I will always come back to you.“ 
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iouinotes · 4 months
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Beautiful Boy | Alex Walter
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pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader
show: My life with the Walter Boys
warnings: mostly fluff and love confessions, but a bit of implied sexual activities
word count: 4,6k
summary: You are completely in love with your best friend. When the chance is given, you decide to finally take it and show your love.
a/n: The story will mention a review from the past, where they play truth or dare. So, I was inspired to write that scenario: match made in heaven is here!
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He's everything I ever wished for. It´s silly, thinking about it, really. My ongoing crush for him since the first time I met him all these years ago.
It was during the first day after the winter holiday. It was dark outside, very cold and rainy weather. Well, unfortunately it did not look like that in the morning, so I instantly panicked after school, because I forgot to bring my jacket. Normally one of my friends picked me up after school and drove me home, but she was sick today and I heard about her being ill, last minute.
So now I´m standing in the hallway, debating if I should better start to go to the bus station (probably getting soaked) or if I just walk to the school library, hoping that the weather cools down. I was drowning in my own thoughts, when I first heard his voice.
"Are you okay?" The second my eyes landed on him, I was gone for good. Because the boy in front of me was utterly beautiful. Handsome round face, freckles, warm brown eyes and a shy smile. One look at him and I fell in love with his beauty. Little did I know, I would soon fall head over heals for his personality or the way his voice sounds when he is making fun of me, because I believe in love at first sight. How could I not, when I have met him?
He was very caring the first time we met. Even though I was embarrassed of my situation, he made me feel comfortable. When I told him about my difficulty, he instantly helped me out. He told me, that his brother also picked him up from school every day, so it wouldnt be a problem, if I came along. Not only this sweet gesture made me speechless, it was also the way he stripped out of his jacket and gave it to me without hesitation, when we went outside and he saw that I didnt bring a jacket.
"What? No, I can´t-" I tried to argue, but one blink of his lashes, one look at his eyes, was enough to keep me occupied. "My mom would kill me, if I didnt. It´s okay, I dont mind." He really was the sweetest. His jacket kept in fact, keep me warm. And it also smelled like him, thats what made me blush in the end. I didnt know, if he noticed me looking at him from time to time (but then again, he nowadays didnt noticed it either), but I could not contain myself.
He was a gentleman, shy and adorable. He was all I wished for in a guy. When his brother - who I idetified as the most popular guy of our school- Cole, came in sight, only then it clicked. The boy in front of me, with his nervous smile, was Alex Walter.
When the car parked and the headlights were visible in the rain, we quickly ran to the blue vehicle. His brother didnt talk much, so the car ride was mostly quiet, my eyes were out the window and my thoughts were on Alex previous gesture of holding the door open for me. He didnt intend for me to fall in love with him, but I couldnt think of anything else to do, better than exactly that.
"I didnt get your name?" was all he said, when the car stopped in front of my house. "Oh right, sorry. Im y/n." He smiled again at me and my heart wanted to jump out off my chest. I didnt really notice Cole in the front and his famous "Cole effect". I was all catched up, by the beautiful boy next to me.
"Alex" he shook my hand and it made me giggle. I saw his ears turning pink at my laughter, so I smiled at him, so he knew I wasnt making fun of him. He relaxed then, but much to my dislike the blonde brother spoke up, before I could say something else. "I dont have all day, so are you two done looking at each other or can you go now? I swear, I saw y´all nearly kiss." At that, I was the one who turned red. "Sorry, thanks for the ride and-" as I wanted to strip off the jacket, Alex stopped my movements. "Oh no, you can have it. I mean- it´s still raining outside, I-I dont want you to get sick." Maybe I was already at that exact moment, falling in love with him. I also think, that his words made my cheeks turn a shade of red, that wasnt even on a scala anymore, because it was so high.
"But when do I give it back to you?" The last thing I wanted to do, was crossing a line with the Walter brothers. And maybe I also hoped to see him again. "Tomorrow? I will be in the gaming room in third grade. If thats okay with you?" He spoke quickly, because Cole kept getting more annoyed. "No, its fine. Thank you, Alex." I kissed him on the cheek (dont know where that one came from) and before I could look back, I was already out of the car and running towards the house. When I opened the door and the warmth embraced me, I looked out of the window from my house. The car was already gone, but I remember smiling so bright, I almost could not contain the happy feeling that consumed me.
That was the first time, my diary heard of Alex Walter.
The next day, I searched through three gaming rooms before I finally found him, starring at his laptop. As soon as I tapped him gently on the shoulder, he turned around and looked at me suprised. When he asked me, if I had had any trouble finding him, I said "what no, it took five minutes", when in reality it took 20 minutes, but he sounded really sincere, so it didnt matter.
That was the start of our ever-lasting friendship. We became best friends quickly and are verly close ever since, he is my other half. We are always together, in the hallway, at lunch, we see each other at the weekends and we even got the price "the best of best friends" by our friendgroup. I mean it was funny and its nice, really. But it says everything. We are just friends.
It´s very funny actually, because he knows me better than anyone and I can´t keep one secret from him. He just knows, when something is up. But my biggest secret of all time, that was the part where he was clueless about.
My love for him.
He just doesnt notice and I tried to not show it, but everyone knows I like him. Well, expect for him. When I look at him too long, because I (again) got lost in his eyes or looked a second too long at his lips, while he talked, he thinks he has something on his face. When I compliment him, for literal anything, he thinks I make fun of him, so he doesn't take it seriously. And I tried almost everything, so he could finally notice. Maybe then he could make the first move.
I once talked about my ideal type, because it was a truth or dare on my birthday party and I literally described him - he didnt notice. I swoon on a daily basis over his beauty, his intelligence , his personality, his habits, his cute flaws like staying up all night to play a video game - he doesnt know. I tried to learn his favorite video game, I read the Lord of the Rings saga, I even watched baseball games with him, I do anything so he will notice, how much I care about him. But he just doesn't get it.
If I would know, he simply didnt like me that way, I could somehow cope with that. But then, there are moments, where I would catch him starring at me, where he seems to be the one wanting me. He watches romantic movies with me and lets me cry about it after, when I´m sad about the ending, Sometimes I even get to lay on his chest. He listens when I talk about my newest book obsession, he goes shopping with me, even though he hates it. He helps me studying and I can tell him anything, he´s always there for me.
So it could be, that maybe my feelings were not completely unrequited. But then again, why didnt he made a move by now? Nevertheless, it keeps me awake at night. Because I want nothing more than to kiss his soft lips, feel his skin against mine, to look at his eyes and study every single freckle from his neck to his forehead. I want to love him. In a way, he knows it.
These feelings, these thoughts are constantly in my head. Especially now, when I sit across him and simply look at his concentrated face. His eyebrows are drawn together, he´s currently biting on his bottom lip, his nose scrunched in a frown. The light of his room shows me every little detail of his face. In moments like this, on a friday evening, where we study together for a biology test, I wish he would know how I feel about him. Because it would make everything so much easier.
Its currently raining outside, a remember of our first encounter, the clouds are dark and I hear loud thunder since the last couple of minutes went by. "Do you think, it will get better? The weather clearly looks bad." I shift my gaze to look at him and when I catch him starring at me, my heart swells in my chest.
I want to break the distant between us and close the gap of our lips. Want to get to know every little detail of his body. But as he speaks up, I clear my head. "I dont know, Danny said something about a storm. I honestly didnt know, it would be that bad." He closes his textbook and stands up, looking out the window. ,,Should I go?" My question suprises him. "Now? I think if you take a step outside, you will get swept up by your feet. It´s not safe." He looks at me unwary. "I dont know, I always wanted to fly. Maybe thats a sign." I grin at him and he laughs quietly. "Yeah, of course. Let me ask my dad, what he thinks is for the best. Maybe he can get you an umbrella and you do your best Mary Poppins impression."
~~~~~~
30 minutes later I find myself in a full-on Walter-family-disscussion. "But uncle! I dont get to have girls stay overnight. Thats unfair!" Lee is looking at George, unable to hide his jealousy. "When did a girl ever wanted to stay overnight with you?" Isaac asks from across the table. Lee just ignores him, an angry look in his eyes.
"Look, its nothing that I will allow forever. But right now, she cant go home, so she is welcomed to stay here." I smile at him, thankful that I´m not getting thrown out. "Also, she is like a thirteen family member. She´s practically living here." George added. One look at Alex and I wanted to know what he was thinking. Was I just like a sister to him? "Okay enough of that. Y/n, dear you are welcome to stay the night. We will figure it out. Nathan is staying with Skylar, so his bed is free." I´m glad, Katherine is here. I thank her and George and by the time, we ate dinner and Alex got me a toothbrush, so I could get ready for bed, it was late after 11.
As I make my way back to Alex's room after using the bathroom to change into my clothes, leaving me with shorts and a shirt, Cole is suddenly standing next to me. "Well, what a great opportunity for you." He grins at me. At his comment, I am visible confused. "What do you mean?" I look up to his smiling figure. "You have him all by yourself, of course. Your chance to finally do something. I can´t stand it anymore, you like him and he likes you. I always thought you were the clever one out of you two, so please put everyone out of this misery and kiss him, because he´s a complete idiot. It's long overdue for you two to get together."
His words leave me stunned. After he´s done talking, he makes his way silently back to his own room and I´m still standing in the hallway, trying to process his words. Kiss him. He likes you. Does Alex really likes me or is that some cruel joke for Cole? I hope not. Because my friends have told me several times, that they think, Alex likes me too. But I always thought, they were wrong.
My heart is heavily pounding as I make my way back to his room, taking a deep breath as I open the door. Alex is playing a video game, as always, but I see that he also changed into something more comfortable. It helps me calm down my nerves, when I see him doing something, he always does. I take a few steps towards his chair and his concentrated figure.
I mean, what was there in life, if I didnt take any risks? If he likes me back, it could be the answer to all my dreams and if not - well, the weather was still going pretty bad and could help me out of the awkward situation.
When I decided to test their he-likes-you-too-theory, I quickly came up with a plan. Okay, so I wasnt the best at flirting, that was for sure, but I could make a move. For starters, I wanted something, I often thought about.
As I stand behind him, I trace my fingers along his shoulders, hearing his surprised breath, that he quickly tries to hide. Well too bad, I heard it.
"Alex?" My voice is quiet.
"...yes?" I can see his muscles tense, while I keep touching his shoulders, going lower until I touch his arm. Something about what Cole said, about Alex liking me, gives me a certain confidence, that wasnt there before. Please dont let the King of hooking up be wrong.
"Could I borrow one of your hoodies? I´m freezing and only have my shirt." I try not to think about the possibility that he laughs in my face and says no. But then again, I know that Alex wouldnt do that. "I-uh, yeah. You can, um, grab one out of my closet." I smile to myself, when I see his eyes nervously scanning the display. He paused the game, even though he doesnt look at me while he talks.
"Thanks." As I turn towards his closet, I get the feeling that he´s secretly watching me choose a hoodie. When I get a hold on a dark green one, I immediately know its the one from when we first met. I take it and walk towards the other bed, getting a glimpse of his eyes, that continue to follow me. And then I do something, I thought I would never do in front of him. I change out of my top, the cold air hitting my skin and I hear him gasps.
When I change into his hoodie, a settling warmth embraces me. I smile to myself, a joy blooms in my chest, the feeling of wearing his clothes, makes me feel too good to be true. The shorts I´m wearing are the same ones as before and I think, that I kinda like the casual look. And maybe it looks fine, that could be a good way to get Alex attention. My shorts cover my thighs, but because his hoodie is bigger than what I normally wear, this way it looks like I only wear his hoodie.
When I turn around and fix my hair, he already started another game again. Okay, mission getting-some-sort-of-reaction, is starting to get interesting. "Soo, what do you think? Too big?" I wait for his reaction. When he slowly turns around, one hand holding up his headphones, I see him trying not to stare too hard. But since I see his eyes scanning my body, it´s impossible for him to pretend. I smile to myself.
"And?" I make a step in his direction, watching him swallow. His eyes wander to the floor and a nervous expression crosses his face. "I- I need to finish this game so-" he turns around so fast, I´m almost surprised his neck didnt broke. Shit. That wasnt part of the plan. I glance around the room, trying to come up with something, another way to keep his attention at me. I sit on his bed, near his computer and decide to watch him play. I hear the sound of the game playing in the background, while I continue to think of a way for him to notice me.
And even though I keep my hands to myself, I see him sqirming in his seat. I laugh quietly. "Everything okay?" it seems he isnt that concentrated anymore. "Yeah, uh, are you bored? You never watch me play." His head turns to look at me. "You could teach me some moves." I say, looking at him and then the game, that shows a spider attacking some creature. He raises his eyebrows at my words.
"You sure? I thought you didnt like video games." My eyes wander to his lap as I quickly come up with a plan. "Maybe I will like it, if you show me some tricks. And also, I like you and you´re really interested in gaming, so I thought I could make an effort." His cheeks are blushing, my eyes are starring at his clueless ones.
A smile tucks at his lips, but he tries to keep his cool. "I mean, I´m really good at this, so I could teach you one or two lessons. Where do you want to sit? I only have one gaming chair, but-" he glances around the room, trying to come up with something.
"Well, we could share?" I ask, my voice sounding sincere and not as much thrilled at the idea, to sit in his lap, even though I am freaking out in my thoughts. His eyes widen, when he realizes what I just said.
"You want to-" he doesn't finish his sentence, stuttering at the idea of me sitting on his lap. "If thats okay with you, of course? I think its the best solution, I mean I do want the full experience. So its fair." I see him nervously licking his lips. "Yeah, yeah. I get that. Okay, cool, how do you want to-" I smile at him and his nervous speech. "Just relax, I dont bite. You do know that, right?" I laugh when I see his ears turning pink.
"Right. So uh, come here, I guess?" He puts his arms on the armrests to give me good access and I feel myself getting nervous. God, I never got to be this close to him. I stand up, his eyes take my form in his sweater in, I see him starring at the naked skin. And when I see something shining in his hair, I act without a second thought.
"You have something in your hair, dummy." It's a little paper ball from Benny, probably from the previous dinner (fight), I lean myself down, facing him forward in his lap and cross my legs over his thighs. I don't notice what position we are in until I lean back to show him the piece of paper and suddenly, I'm just a few centimeters from his face. Shocked by the less to no space we have left between us, he doesn't speak and neither do I. We just look at each other.
"i-i got it." The words leave my mouth, the distance between our faces -god his lips look so soft- leaves me speechless. It takes him a moment, but when he answers he sounds just as out of breath as me.
"thanks."
Again, we sit in silence. Suddenly I loose my balance and I almost fall out of the chair, but his arms are quick to catch me. So now, he has his arms around my waist and my arms linger around his shoulders for support. If I would lean closer, I could kiss him.
The thought of kissing him, makes me sqirm and when he lays his hands onto my waist to still my movements, I feel dizzy. Because Im not just sitting on his legs. Indeed, I sit literally on his lap. So when I feel myself getting wet, because he makes me so touch starved, I completely loose my mind.
"Im sorry- i didnt mean to sit that way. I just-" his eyes are so fascinating, brown, green and warm. It feels like he´s looking at my soul. He´s watching my every move. I know I should probably get up, but its the first time, he is that close to me and I cant stop looking at him.
Without a thought in my head, I raise my hand and touch his cheek. I see his lips breaking apart, so he can draw a surprised breath. "You have so many freckles everywhere." My eyes wander around his face. His voice comes back to life for a second, but only to sign. "Too many, actually." I draw my eyebrows together.
"It suits you and it´s not too much. Thats a perfectly fine amount of freckles. Look-" I start to count them. Each and every one. Starting from his ears towards his cheeks, his nose, further down until I stop at his lips. "You have one right above the corner of your mouth." I mutter, my thumb brushes his lips for a second.
Caught, my eyes sneak back to search his gaze. But he just looks at me. My heart feels like it could break any second, if I dont open my mouth to say something.
"You are" I begin to say "so beautiful to me. Every freckle you have, the colour of your eyes, your hair, your lips, your voice, just you."
I cant hold back anymore.
"i-i love you, Alex. I really do. I thought it would just be a crush that would go away, when time goes on, but it hasnt. You´re in every piece of my heart, you hold it together. You are my joy, my laugh, my sadness, you were everything for me, the first second I got to know you. Because you are the best person in my life, my best friend, my other half, my partner in crime, I would bail you out of jail in a heartbeat. Without you, my heart wouldn't beat anymore anyway. Because you make it live. Every day, every time I see you. Maybe if I would have known better, I would have never agreed to take your jacket, the first time we met. If I would have known, how absolutely in love I would get with you, it would have scared me to death. But now? Now I know better than to be away from you, because I better live as your best friend than without having you in my life. Because now, being away from you would be my death."
In one second, I bail my heart out and before I know it, he takes my face in his hands and leans forward. He stops his movement right before our lips touch.
"I think you will be the death of me too, sweetheart."
And with that, he kisses me.
Slow at first, his lips touch mine, so very soft and gentle. I almost think I´m dreaming, because his lips do feel like a dream to me. His hands caress my back and I clutch to his shoulders, afraid the moment will end. His warm hands strive back to my cheeks, tilding my head in a way he can have more access.
And I let him, mainly because I´m too caught up with this emotion and also because I would let him do anything with me. My hands are in his dark hair, gently tugging at his strings, so I get to hear that little breathless sound he makes, that makes my heart flutter.
I sink in his warm embrace, moving my lips with the same rhythm as him, hearing my heartbeat in my ears. His right hand goes to the back of my neck and this action makes me weak in the knees. And he notices it. Gently he breaks apart, leaving me with the want to have more of him and when I open my eyes - I didnt know I closed them - he looks at me, like I´m the sun and he´s the moon, that was away for too long.
"God, you´re so beautiful." His voice is deep, I can hear him catch his breath. His words make my heart ache until I think it isnt able to comprehend his compliment. I feel his lips again, my eyes flutter at the contact. One hand around my hip, holding me steady and the other one, around my neck, making me unsteady.
"alex-" a moan wants to escape me, but I try to hold myself together. His lips leave my mouth and trail further down, finding a spot at the curve of my neck.
"god, yes. Say my name again." I´m pretty sure, I never wanted him more than now.
My hands linger in his hair, I feel his hot breath on my skin and clench my thighs together. He is making me feel all worked up. As his lips leave that spot, I whimper his name, but as soon as his mouth leaves my body, he reconnects with it.
Brushing my hair aside, he kisses me again for a second before he lets go of me. With that, im completely convinced he hates me, the way he´s making me suffer. I hear him quietly laugh, so I slowly open my eyes to watch his face.
"You look drunk on love. Are you alright?" He smiles at me, looking at me, like he didnt just turn my world up site down (and my panties wet, by the way).
"What?" I ask, catching my breath. His skin glows and as I watch every detail of his face (how could I not), I almost miss his next sentence. "I would have never thought that this was your idea of gaming." I feel his shoulders move, when he tries to keep himself from laughing.
I gently smile and roll my eyes. "You are just too handsome for me, to concentrate on anything other than you." His cheeks turn red and there´s a glimmer in his eyes, that makes me feel completed. "So that´s why you have bad grades in math, maybe I shouldnt be sitting next to you then." His joke makes me laugh.
"Well, maybe you can give me some private lessons, so I could improve." At that, he opens his mouth, but no words are said. "Too stunned to speak?" I lean forward, his eyes follow my lips. "You just never flirted with me, its distracting." He looks up.
I just shake my head. One of my hands sneaks around to linger at his cheek. "Oh, trust me. I have. You just never noticed." His eyebrows rise. "Thats a shame. But I guess I have now." He catches my lips.
Yes, he definitely did notice me now.
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pigcowboys · 8 months
Text
what i'm tryna say is . . .
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pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader
summary: you make a point to finally confront percy about why he's been acting so distant.
warning(s): slightly angsty at the start, mutual pining, idiots in love, interrupted love confession.
part 2 part 3
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when it came to feelings and relationships, you had to admit. you weren't the best at them.
you weren't stupid. you knew when someone's intentions weren't as platonic as they wanted it to seem. television taught you that -- though tv wasn't the same as reality and sometimes things aren't as forward as they usually were made to be, people just don't work like that.
you kind of hated that fact, actually. the fact that people were so complicated annoyed you so to speak. especially when it came to the various relationships in your life. your relationship with your mother was..rocky. so, the fact that your father was that of an immortal all powerful deity didn't help at all. you hated the fact that the gods were so fickle with the way they spoke to their demigod children.
they'd abandoned them, yet couldn't even offer them a direct sentence or word of advice. it seemed so bittersweet to you. the existence of camp half-blood was a comforting thought yet, challenged you with hard questions at the same time.
why couldn't the god protect their children themselves? why the hell would they just their put kids in danger knowing there was monsters out to get them? and most of all, why didn't they care enough to stick around?
these questions were built on nothing but anger and hatred yet, you couldn't stop them from popping up whenever you had a moment to yourself. this kind of stuff was complex, hard to understand. it was probably why you even hated thinking about it for too long.
you tried your best to avoid bringing up complex feelings, you really did. but.. sometimes you had to face your fears. or -- something like that you figured.
you idled in front of the poseidon cabin, an unnerving feeling in the pit of your stomach as you tried your best to put on a brave face. you had nothing to be scared of, honestly! it was such a stupid situation you'd found yourself worrying about. it'd only been a few weeks since percy, annabeth, grover and thalia had returned from their quest to find artemis.
you practically busted your ass making your way over to find percy and the others, a comical grin on your face being met with the tired and shaken up faces of the group. thalia left with the hunters, nico was informed of the death of his sister and everyone in the camp seemed to be in grimmer spirits than before.
percy included.
he seemed..distant -- in a way. it made you wonder about what the hell happened on the quest. what he had to witness while he was out on the open road. it made your heart hurt for him. i mean, how could it not? percy was like a shell of his normal self and you hadn't a clue what it was about, especially when he started to avoid your presence around the camp.
it was the main reason you were situated outside his cabin, hesitating to knock on it as your head raced with questions. something in the back of your head told you to just go back to your own cabin and hold your tongue. a part of you wished you'd listened to it, sucking in a breath as you knocked earnestly on cabin 3's door.
you exhaled shakily,
“hey,” you started, pausing as you tried to find something to say. you and percy hadn't spoken in weeks, what could you say..? he looked back at you with wide eyes, like he hadn't expected to see you here at all. you couldn't blame him -- you didn't expect yourself to be there either.
“uh, can we talk..?”
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percy shut the door behind you as you strolled sheepishly into his cabin, looking around the practically empty cabin as you stood in the middle of the room awkwardly.
percy walked over to you nervously, leaning against the frame of cabin 3's bunk bed as he turned to face you with a concerned expression. “what did you wanna talk about?” you paused, analyzing percy's worried gaze
“are you avoiding me?” you blurted out suddenly.
percy blinked a few times before his eyebrows furrowed. “..what are you talking about?”
“i mean.. i haven't seen you in so long? are you like” you cleared your throat. "do you not wanna be friends..anymore?"
“no.” you turned to him. percy's face was slightly flushed though, you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of the fact the sun was boiling today or for..another reason.
“it's not like that.” he added, rubbing the back of his neck. “i've just been..feeling weird, i guess.”
“and you didn't feel the need to tell me about it?”
he paused.
silence fell over the two of you as you began to regret ever coming to cabin 3 before percy spoke once more.
“i don't think i feel the same way i did..” he trailed off. "about..us."
your heart pounded in your ears as your eyebrows furrowed. “what you don't wanna be friends anymore?”
“are you." he sighed in frustration. “no, that's not what i meant.”
you felt slightly jittery now, it must've been your body growing tired of the still position you were in. the vagueness of percy's words were starting to cause thoughts to race in your head as well. why couldn't he just be honest? what excuse is so great that it makes up for the fact he's been ignoring you all this time?
“then,” you mumbled. “ what did you mean?”
percy sucked in a sharp breath, shifting on his leg as he crossed his arms impatiently. he looked like he was trying to psych himself up to say something. he locked eyes with you before shuffling over sheepishly and gently directing you to a sitting position on his bed.
you tapped against the frame of the bunk bed absentmindedly waiting for percy to continue.
“you're uh..” he paused again. “i don't want to just be friends.”
you shot him a confused look. “you wanna be..best friends?”
percy deadpanned. you felt slightly bad for still not getting what he was trying to say. though, what were you supposed to assume when he kept talking in riddles? percy's hand inched towards your own that rested on the bed slowly before he cleared his throat.
“i like - ”
“percy! you have to..” annabeth trailed off, observing the scene in front of her with calculated eyes. she bit back an amused grin, shaking her head slightly. “did i..walk in on something?”
“no!” percy exclaimed, moving his inching hand away from yours to rest in his lap. his face was red and his lips were folded into a thin line. “uh - we weren't doing anything.”
you eyes percy curiously before turning to annabeth. “what's going on?”
“chiron's asking for him..” her eyes shifted between the two of you. “i can tell him you're busy..”
“you don't have to,” you stood up from the bed, dusting yourself off. “i was gonna..leave anyways.” you turned to percy. “catch you later, i guess.” percy nodded his head, waving at you robotically.
you shut the door behind you, trying your best to shake off the awkward conversation.
you weren't able to decipher what percy was saying to you, nor did you even get a straight answer about why he'd be avoiding you. you squinted your eyes as the sun shun over your face.
why were people so complex?
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